


To A Mouse

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Consent Issues, Dark Dick Grayson, Extremely Dubious Consent, Incest, Intersex Omegas, Jason and Dick are half brothers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: The journey north takes forever.It's the dead of winter and the roads are muddy. The taverns and houses they stay in as they travel are busy and loud and Jason locks himself in his rooms with only his books and the one attendant he was allowed. A beta of his darling brother's choosing.Wallace is pleasant enough company for a spy. He talks enough to fill the gaps in Jason's end of any "conversation" himself and doesn't seem to mind when Jason only half listens.The closer they get to their destination, the more Jason's nerves get twisted up. The more time he has to think, to realize just exactly to whom Dick sold him off.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd/Joseph Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 147





	To A Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> _Extremely_ late entry for Slade Robin Week, Day 3: Arranged Marriage. It's probably for the best. The idea spiraled and... Slade doesn't even show up until Chapter 2 now. Although I played more with Slade's family and backstory for this one than the Bats for once and that was a lot of fun.

The throne room is empty of everyone aside from the King and the Crown Prince.

Jason swallows hard when the heavy wooden door closes behind him. The soft thud echoes ominously off the stone walls, made more woeful by the dim, flickering light of the candles in the sconces along the walls. The shadows jumping and retreating across the rich red rug marking the path to the throne as the flames dance.

He approaches until he stands in front of the raised dais where his father and brother await, and makes the customary bow. Or curtsy, rather. As a male omega, Jason is technically allowed to wear appropriately styled trousers — not breeches — but ever since his father handed over the managing of his daily life to his brother, Jason has only been allowed the, admittedly more customary, traditional omegan skirts.

And one curtsies in skirts.

Dick's smirk makes Jason's skin crawl and he quickly looks away, cheeks heating. He hasn't been able to look at his brother since his heat ended. He can still feel phantom hands on his hips, hot breath at his nape, a sweet, satisfying, _horrifying_ pressure deep inside him, filling him up. The darkness in the alpha's eyes — _his brother's eyes_ — makes Jason supremely uncomfortable; so he just tries not to meet them the best he can.

Instead, he focuses on his father's usually more friendly features. Only to find a deep frown pulling down the corners of his mouth, brows knit together, disappointment seeping tangibly from every pore.

"Father—"

The king raises a hand to cut him off. Whatever reason Jason has been summoned to the throne room in the late evening, for a private audience... it isn't good. His father has never been one of those 'omega's should be seen and not heard' people who believe that an omega should not speak unless spoken to; the older alpha has never stopped Jason from airing his opinions and having a voice. And the king has never cared much for the formalities of having his subjects wait for him to address them. He's always welcomed a more casual, open environment.

Silence lingers, heavy and foreboding, stretching out to settle over the whole room. Anxiety and dread build in Jason's chest, tight and restricting, until he's almost not breathing at all.

"I have told you, many times, that your behavior affects more than just yourself," the king starts, tone grave. "How you conduct yourself reflects back upon me, upon your brother, the throne, the whole kingdom. Certain things could be overlooked in your youth, but now... now they cannot."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason sees the smirk Dick's been wearing spread across his face, splitting into a broad, open grin. Jason has no idea what their father is talking about, but obviously his brother is better informed.

"Father, I don't—"

The hand raises again, once more cutting him off. Jason's stomach churns with fear as he tries to gulp down the lump in his throat.

The king's expression softens, just a touch. "I'm sorry, son. This is my fault. I should have been here to protect you during your heat, not only from ill-intended alphas, but from yourself as well. I took for granted how mild-mannered and even-tempered you are without considering the extremity of the situation."

Now Jason's eyes do flicker over to his brother. All he finds is the same knowing, victorious smile. There's no way Dick told their father about... about what happened. Even if he blamed everything on Jason, there's no way he could get out of it entirely.

Right?

Either way, Jason is absolutely not going to say a word until the king provides more clarification.

"The consequences of your dalliance could have been much more dire," his father continues. "Your brother's quick thinking has made what could have been a great scandal, little more than a whisper, not even worthy of gossip. The guard who was so easily seduced has been sent away, his silence bought even though he is fortunate I allowed him to leave with his life—"

"Wait... what?" Jason stares at his father, mouth ajar, more confused than ever. What game is his brother playing at this time? Jason can't see how this lie benefits Dick in any way. "You... you think I welcomed my guard into my den during my heat?"

If he sounds incredulous, it's because he is. The accusation is preposterous. There's a reason the court won't spread this as the latest trashy rumor, and it isn't because of Dick's efforts. Everyone at court knows Jason well enough that the very idea of him doing anything to besmirch the family or embarrass the throne, even in the throws of heat, is laughable.

The king and the prince share a look. Dick's brow rises and his lips pinch. He gives their father a small shrug, as if to say, "I told you."

It takes all Jason's will to not snarl at his older brother as the alpha lies his ass off without a care in the world for how this will destroy Jason's life.

King Bruce stands from his throne and descends the steps of the dais, boots padding silently along the plush red runner until he can reach a big, calloused hand out to rest upon the omega's shoulder. Jason feels so small and frail in his father's shadow.

"It is good that you deny any wrongdoing. Keep that conviction and bemusement in your tone and no one will ever question your sincerity."

"But I—"

"I don't think any less of you, son. And you'll find no judgment here. We all know how a heat or a rut can be so completely consuming. But unlike an alpha losing their head in a rut, there are other concerns we must consider in your case."

The hand on his shoulder moves up to cup around a burning cheek and what was once a comforting touch now makes Jason freeze.

"We must move quickly in case you're carrying. Your brother has made you a match suitable to your station. It is... not the grand plans that I had in store for you, but it's... acceptable. And that is all we can really expect in this situation."

Jason has been shaking his head since the word 'carrying', raven curls bouncing out of their meticulously styled hold.

"No, father, don't... it didn't happen. Whatever Dick told you... I swear, I didn't bed the guard during my heat. I would never disrespect you like that. You were away. I locked the door. I swear it."

Something about the sad, resigned look that flickers across his father's face makes Jason's gut coil in anticipation of the final blow of the ax upon his neck.

"So there is no way you could possibly be with child at this very moment?"

Ice pours down Jason's spine. He tries to stop from glancing at his brother but his eyes have darted to the older boy's smug face before Jason's brain can stop them.

Dick is laughing at him behind those deep blue irises, daring Jason to deny it, to say something he may later regret.

He also can't stop his hand from settling on his stomach, just over his womb. He had never thought about the possibility that he could... that he could be... that...

There is nothing he can say. If Jason tells his father what really happened... well, that will just end worse for him and probably won't affect Dick at all, other than maybe knocking him down a peg in Bruce's regard. But Dick is the crown prince. Jason is just an omega, an extra perk to be auctioned off for the sake of this alliance or that trade deal.

When no other option presents itself, Jason drops his eyes to his toes and swallows hard.

With a gentle pat on the shoulder, his father strides past him, Dick close on his heels.

"Return to your chambers and make yourself ready. Your attendant is already aware of what must be packed for your journey. Tomorrow you set out for Tìr a 'Bhàis."

The location sounds familiar but Jason is still reeling too hard and fast to give it any more notice. Dick turns halfway out the door to toss him a wink before they both disappear, leaving Jason alone in the throne room, trying to catch his breath.

* * *

The attendant is long since dismissed. It's late, well into the night. Most the castle sleeps and only a handful of candles flicker throughout the whole royal estate.

One of those lights dances across the suddenly cold, uninviting walls of Jason's den. He's only allowed one trunk for the long journey north, apparently his future alpha will "provide for his needs".

That sounds a little too... _alpha_ for Jason's tastes, so he's spending the last few hours he wasn't going to be able to sleep through anyway, replacing the clothes he knows his husband will supply, with the books he's not so sure about.

When a door clicks open almost silently, Jason doesn't even bother turning around. There's only one person who would sneak in at this hour. Only one person Jason knows of who is aware of the secret entrance to his den behind the tapestry of some old ancestor standing victorious over a slain dragon.

They used to use the secret passages to play. To creep into each other's rooms when they were supposed to be in bed to read stories or play knights and damsels... Dick even used to let Jason be the knight.

It's been years since those days though. Dick was too old for such childish games even back then, but he had done it for Jason. On the rare occasions Dick was home from his various studies and fosterages, he didn't have much time to build a relationship with his little omega brother but Jason had always appreciated the efforts he managed to squeeze in.

Now those memories are tainted by a dark reality.

Long arms wind around Jason's narrow waist. One pulls back against him to hold him close, the other immediately starts hiking up the thin cotton shift Jason wears to sleep. He bites back a gasp when chilly fingers find their way between his legs.

"Books? It's cold up north. You should pack more cloaks and furs," Dick scoffs, breath hot against Jason's ear as he looks over the smaller boy's shoulder, sliding two fingers back and forth between the folds of Jason's cunt.

Jason suppresses a shudder; doesn't know if it's because of how good it feels or how disgusted he is with himself that his brother's touch can make him feel that way. It shouldn't, Dick is his _brother._ Ever since his heat, when Dick first came to him, first touched him, Jason has been fighting an internal war. He doesn't know if he should be more mad at himself or Dick. He doesn't feel like he seduced the alpha, doesn't remember doing much more than lying in his bed, trying to breathe through the cramps. But with how often he's heard talk of omegas seducing unwitting alphas with their heat-scents, Jason can't help but feel guilty for it anyway.

But then... Jason isn't in heat _now_. And Dick is still touching him.

The prince crowds Jason close to the trunk so he can pin him there while he takes his arm from the omega's waist to pluck out a book, examining the spine. Jason snatches it out of the alpha's hand to reverently return it to its place hidden under the few cloaks and furs Jason _is_ taking.

Dick snorts and winds his arm back around Jason's waist, tightening his hold. "I wouldn't take anything you'll miss if Slade decides it's not suitable. He's... particular."

A risk Jason is willing to take. What good does it do to leave them behind?

Suddenly, unexpectedly and without warning, the fingers press up into him and it happens too fast for Jason to hold back the little squeak he makes before he can tamp down on his reactions.

He feels Dick's lips curl into a grin against his ear.

"Why are you doing this?" Jason asks quietly. "I'm not a threat to you or your position. You... you don't have to get rid of me. Why couldn't we just pretend nothing happened?"

Dick sighs and nuzzles against Jason's throat. Nudges forward even more, until there is no more space and Jason is forced to bend over the trunk.

"Aw little brother. I don't want to pretend nothing happened. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is send you away now that your heats have started and proved so pleasant. But if you _are_ carrying my child within you, I need it to be a proper noble, not a bastard—"

"Stop!" Jason interrupts in a panic when the hand _not_ fingering him, slides over his ass to fumble at Dick's breeches, tugging at the laces to free the erection pressed into Jason's backside. "Don't. Please..."

Reaching back, Jason tries to grasp Dick's wrist. He knows it's futile, knows it won't actually stop the alpha. Jason might be feisty and scrappy but Dick is bigger and stronger and was actually allowed to train for fighting. Just like during Jason's heat, Dick will take what he wants and there's nothing Jason can do about it. Still, Jason can't help but try, in the vain hope his older brother will be moved by his younger sibling's disinterest.

Ignoring him, Dick spreads his fingers wide, stretching Jason open as the blunted head of Dick's cock drags down through the seam of Jason's sex to press tentatively at the opening. Jason squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, bracing himself for when Dick thrusts forward. This isn't like his heat, where nature helped ease the way. Jason's body isn't producing slick, there is no heat-haze settling in his mind, helping him relax and loosen up. Dick's alpha scent, once warm and trusted, now makes Jason's stomach churn and all his muscles tense.

"I just need you out the way for a bit. Just enough time for father to pass. He would have likely married you off to some young, charming, perfect future king or emperor. You would have been in a faraway land and we would have rarely seen each other again. This way, you stay near, marry an already old alpha, who already has an heir. A mate with one foot already in the grave. I'll probably have to take a mate too, some foreign princess who won't escape the same fate I'm getting you out of, and I can't have you around distracting me, giving people reason to call my loyalties to my mate, and thereby the alliance, into question." Dick rolls his hips forward in a small, teasing thrust. The head of his cock slides into the opening made by his fingers before slipping right back out. Jason doesn't like any of what Dick is saying and he doesn't want to like any of what Dick is doing. But between the soft wisps of air breathed over the sensitive skin of Jason's nape, the warm, gentle tickle of Dick's lips on his neck, the small, focused movements of his fingers inside him... Jason's traitorous body starts to make slick.

"—then I can send for you," Dick continues as though he did nothing to distract Jason in the middle of his speech. "Bring you home. Give you rooms next to mine. I'll be the devoted older brother to my widowed omega sibling. Then I will visit your den every night. After an appropriate amount of time, perhaps we can wed. I know it's not common anymore but we only share a father and it's not unheard of... you'll still be young and fertile... maybe my mate has an accident or succumbs to an illness before they can give me a child. Then _our_ pup will be my heir..."

The thought makes Jason feel like he's going to be sick all over his trunk. Dick, however, obviously likes the idea. He groans and pulls Jason back to meet a thrust that spears Dick's cock into him all the way to the root.

Jason grunts when Dick slaps against him, muttering filthy things about how wet Jason is for him and how he'll miss the way the velvety walls of Jason's cunt clench around him.

Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, Jason tries to focus on the one, solitary upside to this mess.

He'll never have to see Dick again. Even if he summons Jason, _King_ Richard will have to send his whole army north to drag him back.

* * *

The journey north takes forever.

It's the dead of winter and the roads are muddy. The taverns and houses they stay in as they travel are busy and loud and Jason locks himself in his rooms with only his books and the one attendant he was allowed. A beta of his darling brother's choosing.

Wallace is pleasant enough company for a spy. He talks enough to fill the gaps in Jason's end of any "conversation" himself and doesn't seem to mind when Jason only half listens.

The closer they get to their destination, the more Jason's nerves get twisted up. The more time he has to think, to _realize_ just exactly to whom Dick sold him off.

Clan Baile-Nighe has kept a firm grip on Tìr a 'Bhàis for several centuries now. They follow more traditional pack-centric rules of inheritance than most of the other neighboring kingdoms. Unlike Gotham, the "king" of Tìr a 'Bhàis is the head of the pack—regardless of bloodline or caste—and the heir isn't automatically assumed to be the first alpha sired by the king.

Slade Wilson has reigned for decades, inheriting the throne, not from his father, but from his wife, who viciously deposed her predecessor, the ruthless King William Walsh. King Adeline is one of very few omega rulers in _history_ and Jason has always been partial to her legend. Even if she did abdicate her position, abandon her pack, and move to a faraway realm.

Jason is feeling quite partial to that decision at the moment anyway.

Wilson is not known for his kindness or warmth. His renown is as one of the best warriors in the world and as a calculative, efficient king.

When the coach finally arrives at Wilson's stronghold, the only person who meets Jason is a weathered old alpha with white hair and a matching mustache. His posture is as stiff and proper as Alfred's always was and Jason feels a wave of relief that at least he wasn't greeted by just the Chamberlain.

"Your Royal Highness." The man inclines his head, bowing from the neck. Then meets Jason's eyes with a confident gaze. "Welcome to Stròc Bàis. I am William Wintergreen, the king's royal secretary."

There is a small commotion from the cavernous entry to the great stone castle. A very disheveled man with dark hair, peppered with grey, skids to a muddy stop next Wintergreen, tucking his shirt into his trousers.

Wintergreen doesn't roll his eyes but Jason can tell it's a very near thing and he can't help but smile up at the alpha.

"This is Lord LeFarge, the king's chamberlain," Wintergreen sighs.

The younger alpha looks Jason up and down as he finishes dressing whistles. "You sure are a sight for sore eyes, princess. Haven't seen anyone pretty as you since Addie left. If you ever want to try out the younger, better looking model..."

Jason raises his eyebrows and sees Wintergreen barely refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat.

LeFarge does roll his eyes and widens his grin. "Apologies. Your royal highness." He says the last sarcastically and ends with a dramatic bow from his waist.

With his sweetest, courtier's smile, Jason looks up at the man as he straightens. "Think nothing of it. I certainly won't."

Wintergreen's lip twitches like he's fighting back his own smile. LeFarge's falters, only to return a moment later broader than ever.

"Can I trust you to deliver the princess to his chambers without incident?" Wintergreen grumbles. He reminds Jason so much of Alfred that a faint hope creeps into Jason's heart. Hope that this place won't be entirely miserable.

"Yeah, yeah," LeFarge waves off, unconcerned.

Another sigh from Wintergreen and he directs his attention back to . "The ceremony will begin in a few hours. Will that be enough time for you to prepare?"

Any joviality in the air dissipates instantly. That's... _really_ fast. It's more than enough time to get ready but...

Jason knew this wasn't going to be the big, royal wedding he was raised to expect, it's just... well, he expected it would happen a day or two after he got here while they waited for nobles to arrive.

He keeps his reservations to himself. He doesn't know these people and while he's used much of the journey to read up on their customs, he is far from an expert.

Lord LeFarge leads Jason through a maze of halls, each too similar to the next for Jason to get a good idea of the place. Though he could find his way back to the entrance hall if he had to. Each footstep echoes on the stone floors until they reach the living wings and the sound of their boots soften on the wood and long rich rugs.

His alpha guide doesn't speak to him until he opens the heavy, wooden double doors of what Jason takes to be his rooms.

They're bigger than his chambers at home. Rooms fit for a queen.

"Didn't see any reason to set you up somewhere else just for a few hours," LeFarge says as Jason steps into the room. A young man and a young woman, both in matching, simple cotton frocks, stop fussing with the contents of Jason's trunk to turn and curtsy at them. "These two will attend you until you can select your retinue."

Jason turns around to look at the lord. "I... I get to choose my own company?"

"As few or as many as you like," the alpha answers. Then he smirks, showing the sharp points of his teeth. "Provided they're all omegas, of course."

"Of course."

Jason hears the LeFarge follow him deeper into the room as he moves to the window. The view is breathtaking. Below his window and spanning the immediate vicinity is a lovely, well groomed garden and manicured estate just beyond. But past that...

Past that are craggy, towering mountains greener than polished emeralds, jutting out against a twilight sky of pinks and blues and purples filled with rolling, grey-white clouds.

It may be wet and cold here but Gotham is wet and cold and Jason could never see anything beyond the city there. At least here he has a view.

The air is crisp and clear and it's almost... almost _quiet_. There's the usual bustle of a castle preparing for an event but outside the open window Jason doesn't hear a sprawling metropolis (even though Stròc Bàis does have a surrounding city, it's just no where near as populous as Gotham). It feels... calm.

Perhaps Jason was made for a more... bucolic life than Gotham royalty could offer.

"You planning on wearing your books?"

The calm crumbles. Jason turns back to LeFarge to find the alpha rummaging through his trunk, peering at a couple of the thicker tomes Jason brought.

"No wonder your trunk was so heavy."

It takes everything Jason has to refrain from snapping at the impudent man.

"I... like to read," he explains shortly. Then swallows hard. "If the king takes issue with my priorities, I can easily shift them."

It's the grandest lie he's ever told. It will not be easy for Jason to shift his priorities. He likes learning new things and if someone tells him to stop, it'll be like hacking off his own limb or depriving him of oxygen. He doesn't even want to offer. But... he doesn't want to start out on an off foot.

But the alpha just snorts and drops the books back into the trunk. "I doubt it'll be a problem," he looks up at Jason, smirking like he's looking for trouble. "Typical Slade. Never settles for some pretty little thing with nothing between the ears. Always looking for a challenge."

That's good to know, Jason thinks, even as he blushes at what he feels compelled to take as a compliment.

"I'll leave you to it then," LeFarge says abruptly, striding to the door. "I'll return for you in a couple hours, when everything is ready. If you need anything, the attendants will get you sorted."

Jason follows to see him out. Which is why he has to take a hurried step back when the alpha suddenly spins in the threshold, looming over Jason with that smile.

"It was a _pleasure_ meeting you, princess."

With his own wicked smile, Jason says, "The pleasure was all yours," and closes the door on LeFarge's amused reaction.

It takes Jason a little longer to get ready. Partly because he may have fallen asleep in the warm, soothing water of his bath. Still, washing off the weeks of travel helped ease some of Jason's anxiety.

Then he stands in front of the mirror in his white gown and wonders if anyone other than the king knows the purity it represents is a production.

When the servants aren't looking, Jason rests a hand lightly over his belly. He would know by now, wouldn't he, if he was carrying his brother's child? He'd be ill or weary or swore.

The knock on the door startles him and he jumps so hard one of the little orange poppies his attendants are pinning into his hair falls to the ground. The young man just gives Jason a small, knowing smile, and puts it back in place while the woman opens the door.

LeFarge looks much more put together now, in a bright orange doublet that wouldn't be out of place in Gotham, and black, white, and orange tartan trews that absolutely would. "It's time."

Jason breathes deeply, nods, and takes the offered arm.

Time to meet his new king.

And mate.

**Author's Note:**

> Slade's fictional land is basically Scotland guys. I just think the man would look sexy a kilt 😔 
> 
> Also... Wade's surname is... LeFarge and/or DeFarge. I want to say the second was a typo in the comics but either way, AO3 uses LeFarge so that's what I did. 
> 
> ~~Sorry if google translate fucked up the Scots Gaelic~~


End file.
